'Tis the Season

To be lonely

‘Tis the season to be jolly, so they say. And if you look around, on every street corner there are twinkly lights, candy canes, Christmas trees, snowmen, snowflakes, and all sorts of holiday cheer.

There’s also, allegedly, a war on Christmas, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

The point is, that if you blacked out in, say, July, and suddenly came to on December 9^th, you could look around almost anywhere in America and know for certain it was December. All the radio stations play Christmas songs. All the visuals are red and green.

Which is great, I suppose. It’s festive. It’s jolly. It’s…Christian.

And when you’re not Christian, like I’m not[1], it’s a loud, blinking, 24/7 reminder that I’m the odd man out.

I’m not asking anyone to take the decorations down. 69% of Americans identify as Christian.[2] That’s a pretty large majority. In my neighborhood, it’s probably a lot higher, given that there’s approximately one church for every seven houses.[3] In a free market, let the market decide—if everyone wants Santa, then let Santa prevail.

All I’m asking is this: be aware that for some of us, this is a pretty lonely time of year. I’m reminded of that every time I have to either order online (which I hate doing—shop small, that’s my motto) or drive long distances to get supplies for my holidays. People shout greetings at me for a holiday I don’t celebrate and expect to hear them back. When I reply with a generic “Happy Holidays!” which is no less cheerful, I sometimes get comments about the war on Christmas.

Let me tell you: if us non-Christians are waging a war on Christmas, we are losing. We lose that war every year somewhere around Halloween, when the tinsel and chocolate Santas come out, yelling, “You’re different from the majority!” at us.

And I know. “What do you care?” You may ask me. “You’re in your fifties. What do you care if you fit in with everyone else or not?”

For the most part, I don’t. I have my own friends, I have my own life, my family, my loved ones. I don’t need the company of folks who look down on me because I don’t have a tree in my living room dripping pine needles and sap or because their preacher tells them I am going to Hell.

But we never get over the high school cafeteria. It never feels good to be excluded. I know for a fact I’ve lost jobs and opportunities because no one knew me from church and they did know the other guy.

I’m not trying to change anyone’s religious beliefs, I’m not trying to prevent my taxpayer dollars from being used to buy a Christmas tree for the town square. I’m not fighting a war against Christmas. I’d lose that war even if I tried. I’m just asking that you acknowledge my existence, maybe throw a “seasons greetings” in there for every third good wish.

I think it’s what Santa would do.

---

[1] I’m Jewish

[2] Religious Preferences Largely Stable in U.S. Since 2020

[3] I made that number up, but drive down any street and you’ll see I’m not far off.